Description:

Clearly one of the bright spots to rise up out of the so-called Electroclash debacle. Where groups like Chicks On Speed and Felix Da Housecat ultimately end up creating dance-floor anthems, G&C have been that weird brother hiding in the corner making minimalist masterpieces with dusty equipment. G&C's brand of minimal synth on Electronic Eulogy is a dark wave of another colour. Like underground synthesists of old, such as Ceramic Hello, or John Ruth, or even very early New Order, G&C's musical omniverse is a beatific one filled with lush, polychromatic chord progressions presented within a spare and melancholic framework. The wave is cold, but not blanched (as opposed to the repetitive sturm und drang of, say, Snowy Red or Suicide). An album of introspective quality, Electronic Eulogy steals seeds fostered in the glitch garden and grows them into a wholly unique and very melodious Tannen-baud. Those sweet electonyxx click, wash and whirr, counterpointed occasionally by acoustic guitar and/or vocals on a few tracks (a kind of perfectly flat and distant vocal delivery, somewhat like Dean Wareham. In fact, 'Dictionary Dream,' which happens to feature the guitar upfront, is something of a synth pop take on Galaxie 500). That's just the thing with G&C...they are like some long lost Factory or Cherry Red or 4AD cold/dark wave group, before there were deeply established camps within the synth and post punk worlds. Second Layer meets Shox? Minny Pops vs Insides? The Fast Set has a scone with early Arms Of Someone New? The opening 'Promenade,' with its brilliantly twisted boomerang timing structure and analog buzz, is like some kind of electro-crack. All in all, just lovely sequenced rainy day electronic head-music. It'll have you praying for rain.